Safe to Shore
by Qzil
Summary: Against all instincts Meg, a young mermaid trying to avenge the death of her father, saves a human man from drowning and returns him to the surface. When an enemy after her grandfather's throne turns her human, alone on land without her ability to sing, Meg struggles between falling in love with the young prince and trying to return to the sea to avenge her family.
1. Chapter 1

Meg smiled as the men screamed and threw herself headfirst into the water. The other mermaids followed, their tails propelling them through the current as they swarmed around the sinking ship. When she surfaced again, she sang four keening notes, and watched as one of the men froze and walked, zombie-like, toward the edge of the ship. One of the other sailors grabbed him and tried to pull him back. The other mermaids broke the surface, their voices joining hers, causing more sailors to fall under her spell.

When they plunged over the side of the ship, the feast began.

She dove back under the water at the first splash and swam for one of the sailors. He flailed away from her, kicking toward the surface. She let his head break the water before she grabbed his boot and dragged him back under. He kicked harder, trying to dislodge her, and she laughed, dragging him deeper into the ocean before letting go of his boot and allowing him to once again try to kick his way upward.

She swam in front of him, cutting off his access to the air, and hissed at him through her pointed teeth. The spiny fins on her back and her forearms flared outwards as she did, and a stream of bubbles flew from his mouth as he screamed through the water.

He swiped at her, and she easily dodged and swam downward, raking her claws down his face as she went. As he kicked toward the surface she swam around him, lazily swiping at him with her claws until he surfaced again, bleeding from half a dozen wounds.

She surfaced with him, springing on his back with a screech and forcing his head back under. All around her there were men dying in the water, thrashing helplessly as the others attacked them, holding them under the waves or dragging them down. She watched her cousin, Ruby, leap on another man's back and tear through his neck, shaking her head back and forth. She laughed as he screamed, bits of flesh stuck between her pointed teeth.

When the man underneath her stopped struggling, Meg hauled him away from the bloodshed and threw his body onto the rocks where his ship still remained, half-sunk. Ruby joined her a moment later, blood still oozing from her prey's neck-wound and running down her arms.

Meg ignored her and dug her claws into the man's chest, tearing through his ribs and shoving strips of flesh into her mouth. The screams stopped as the other mermaids killed their prey and dragged the bodies up onto the rocks. When she ripped the heart from the ribcage, Meg allowed herself to look out at the carnage around her.

The water was stained with red as the blood swirled, bits of wreckage floating in the tide. Torn scraps of flesh bobbed with the moving ocean, along with an odd limb and scraps of human clothing. The mermaids who had not been lucky enough to grab a sailor as they plunged off the side of the boat circled the ones they had allowed to escape, floating just under the water or hovering at the edge of the rocky island. Casey winked at her as she plunged beneath the waves, swimming after the tiny lifeboat that was rapidly rowing away from the wreck. A small pack of mermaids dove off the rocks and swam after her.

Meg knew the game well. It had been one of her favorites when she was a child, and the older mermaids had claimed all the prey that had fallen into the water. They would follow the boat for days, nudging it in circles as they picked the men off one by one, luring them into the water. She still played it once in a while, and always allowed one or two humans to escape so he could run back to his people and tell tales of hers.

"You gonna eat that or what?" Ruby asked. Meg blinked and clicked her teeth together, tearing herself away from her thoughts. She turned away from the still-churning, reddened water and toward Ruby, sinking her teeth into the muscle as she did so. Wrenching her head from side to side, her serrated teeth tore a piece of flesh free. Meg moaned as the still-warm blood flowed from the muscle and ran down her arms. She did not speak to Ruby, and continued to eat until the body grew cold under her and the blood dried on her arms and face.

When she was finished, Meg rolled the body off the rocks and watched it bob with the tide, leaving it for the other sea creatures that needed the carrion. "You should have saved some to bring to Lucifer," Ruby said, ripping strips of flesh from her own kill and stuffing them in the blood-dampened bag next to her on the rocks.

"Grandfather can hunt his own prey," Meg answered, picking bits of skin from under her claws. "He does, often."

"He is your King, Meg. You could pay him homage."

"You shouldn't be such an ass kisser." The fin on Meg's back flared out and snapped down angrily. "Why do you care?"

"There have been some...whispers lately," Ruby said slowly, finally rolling her own catch off the rocks. "Some others have been talking about needing a new King. Someone to unite us completely instead of letting us go around killing when we please and sleeping where we choose."

The fin on Meg's back flared again. "Who?"

Ruby shook her head, her dark hair tumbling around her bare shoulders. "I don't know. I didn't see their faces. Like I said, just whispers. I thought…"

"I'd be insulted if it wasn't such a stupid assumption," Meg snapped. "Whoever they are, I'm sure Grandfather knows and is just waiting for the right time to make an example of them." Before Ruby could answer, Meg slung her own bag over her shoulder and dove off the rocks.

She swam down to the hole in the side of the ship and slipped through it, avoiding the torn parts of the wood and letting the ocean wash the blood from her. She blinked rapidly to let her eyes adjust to the darkness before she continued to swim through the bowels of the ship. A faint glint of gold caught her eye as she explored, and Meg swam over to the corner of the ship and ran her fingers through the gold coins piled in a chest, a smile blooming on her face.

She was a mermaid, and there were only a few things in the ocean that she loved more than killing, glittering objects being one of them. She stuffed a fistful of the coins into her bag before continuing through the wreckage. She found several more treasures as she ventured through the wreck, necklaces and coins and bracelets. Some she stuffed in her bag, but most she looped around her neck or wrists as she continued her search, pulling open chests of ruined spices, alcohol, and fabrics. She pulled a bolt of one of the shiner fabrics from the chest and tore at it, wrapping it around her bare breasts and stomach before knotting it in place.

When she found a hole in the wooden floor leading to the upper parts of the ship, she swam up cautiously. She sang a few notes as her head broke the water in case any survivors had found themselves trapped in the bowels of the wreck, willing them toward her with her voice. When no humans walked to meet her, she allowed herself to take in the still-dry cabin.

Meg let out a gasp of delight when she spotted the bookshelf on the wall and the books spilled across the cabin floor. Taking care to avoid the splinters of wood, she hauled herself from the water and onto the floor, clawing her way over to the books.

The ship continued to sink as she grabbed the ones closest to her and drew her hand over the covers, muttering a spell to protect them from the water before she stuffed them into her bag. She chose at random as the cabin filled with water until her bag was bulging, and tucked one under her arm as she prepared to leave.

Out of the corner of her eye, Meg caught a shape half submerged in the water. She made a clicking sound as she slithered over to it and turned the object so it was facing upright.

The statue of the human face stared back at her, and Meg's eyes were pulled to the statue's back. Two feathery wings spread out on either side of it, and she ran her fingers over them, claws scraping on the stone. She stayed there until the water brushed her breasts and nearly covered the statue before she shrugged and tucked it under her arm with the book. Loaded down with her treasures, Meg slid through the hole in the floor and headed for home.

.

Meg unloaded when she reached the cave she called home, breaking to the surface of the little air-pocket and up-ending her bag. The gold coins glittered in the faint torchlight from the walls and clacked merrily against the stone. She picked them up and dropped them again, smiling at the noise and glitter, before turning to her other treasures.

She pulled herself from the water and onto the dry rock, dragging the books with her, and stacked them with the rest of her collection in the corner, as far away from the water as she could, a precaution for when her spells wore off. The jewelry and coins she placed as close to the torches as she could, unwrapping them from her body and dropping them carelessly on the floor. For a few moments she watched the light dance off the metal, head pillowed on her arms while her dark hair slowly dried in the air.

When she managed to wrench herself away from the wall, Meg unwrapped the fabric from around her body and laid it out to dry, avoiding the frayed edge from where she'd torn it from the bolt. The shiny purple fabric felt soft to her touch, even while wet, but she knew that when it dried the salt would stiffen it eventually, and damage the fabric. Still, she had piles of it stacked against the wall where she sometimes slept, and when the purple fabric dried, she would add it to the pile.

When she was finished, Meg turned to the statue and tapped her claws on the floor. _Angels._

The word from a book she'd read long ago flitted through her head, and Meg tore herself from the statue and dragged herself back toward her books, shifting through the pile until she found one of her oldest ones. Over the centuries she'd collected hundreds of the things, and in the last few years since her mentor's death, she'd slowly transferred her collection from her old cave to his. She drew the book to her bare chest and opened it, flipping through the pages until she came upon a drawing of an angel.

It looked like the statue she had salvaged from the wreck. Large, blue eyes stared up at her from the page as she scanned the other one, drinking in the familiar story about the warriors of God.

When she finished, Meg tossed the book back onto the pile and dragged herself over to the angel statue again, wincing when her tail scraped along the stone. Carefully, she gripped the statue and rolled into the water.

Her cave had belonged to her mentor and honorary uncle, Alastair, before his death a few years ago. After he'd died, Meg had claimed it as her own and begun filling it with all of the human things she'd collected from shipwrecks and other caves during her life. Her magic was poorer than a lot of the mermaids she knew, but she had enough power to preserve most of her treasures.

She had everything, from human bones to sails, arranged erratically in niches in the walls and piled on top of the cave's natural dips and rises. She swam with the statue, moving aside paintings, boxes filled with buttons and knives, and a ship's wheel before she found a place for it on top of one of the cave's higher rock formations.

She moved aside the skull she'd placed there and put the statue down before replacing the skull so it sat at the base of the statue. Arranging a few shells around it, Meg swam back and let out a pleased hum.

"Still playing with human trash, are we?"

Meg spun, the fin on her back flaring, then relaxing, when she realized it was only her brother, Tom. "What do you want?"

"Sister, is that any way to treat your family?" he asked, holding out his hands. Meg rolled her eyes and took his hands, letting her brother pull her to him and kiss her, their teeth clacking together. She clawed at the half-ripped fin on his back, a souvenir from one of their childhood fights, and pulled away from him.

"What do you want?"

"Grandfather wants to see you," he said, stroking her face. "The news is not happy."

She leaned into his hand. "Oh, wonderful. I should bring him something, huh?"

"He would like that. Go and get whatever gift you're bringing him, and I'll take you to the palace."

"I'm only sixty years younger than you. I don't need an escort," she snapped. Her brother's black eyes seemed to get even darker.

"Today you do, sister." Meg growled at him, slapping his side with her dark tail as she swam back upward and pondered over what to bring her grandfather. He, like all the other merpeople she knew, liked objects that sparkled when held up to the light. With a smirk, she grabbed her bag and threw a couple of the gold coins in before swimming back down to Tom.

They swam to the palace in silence, ignoring the other merpeople they passed on the way. A few bowed their heads to Meg and Tom, while others ignored them in turn. Her black tail propelled her through the current as they swam, and the water flowing through her mouth and gills finally washed the taste of blood from her tongue as they got nearer to the sprawling mass of coral where their grandfather made his home.

Every time she saw the palace, Meg felt the same awe she had felt as a child when she saw it. It towered above the ocean floor in spirals, the large, carved windows and rooms teeming with sea-plants and fish that swam through the windows. Once, when she was young, her father, Azazel, had told her that the palace was thousands upon thousands of years old, carved out by ancient merpeople. Her kind lived centuries longer than humans, but even for them, the place had been build long before any living merperson's memory.

She had grown up there, with her brother and aunt and cousin. Most of her family still lived there with her grandfather, but she had left long ago, preferring to be alone. Still, the sense of home when she saw the palace was overwhelming, and she reached out to squeeze her brother's hand.

He took her through the large hallway and to the throne room where her grandfather sat in his grand chair, his red tail lazily moving with the ocean current. "Meg, how good to see you," he said, reaching into Ruby's bag next to him and pulling out a strip of human flesh. "Have you brought your grandfather a present?"

Meg swam to him and held the gold coins out for his inspection. He scooped them from her palm, running his claws along the thin flesh as he did. "I hunted with Ruby and the others," she told him, drawing her hand back. Lucifer held the coins up to the feeble light and smiled, turning them to see the shine.

"I see you had some luck." He placed the coins on the small table next to his throne and selected another piece of flesh from the bag. "That's good. I have some unfortunate news for you, my granddaughter." He reached out to stroke her cheek, and Meg closed her eyes and leaned into the touch, humming in pleasure. "Your father is dead."

Her humming stopped and her eyes snapped open. She stared into Lucifer's eyes, black like her own, in disbelief. "How?"

"A human man that we know very well," he said. "He killed your mentor, and now he's killed your father."

"Dean Winchester," she whispered, trembling. She remembered him all too well, the human that had managed to get away from her mentor's torture and kill him in the process. Her hands curled into fists as she recalled his face while he slept in her cave, passed out against the stone floor.

Alastair had captured him and dragged him to the cave, intending to play with him like he had done with dozens of others. When she'd arrived to help him, she'd found Dean gone and Alastair dead in a pool of his own blood on the floor.

No one knew how he'd gotten away.

"Yes, the son of the man you tortured so long ago," Lucifer said, picking up the coins again. "I remember John Winchester. He spoke of his sons often under Alastair's knife. Now it seems that his son has taken revenge."

"I'll kill him," she whispered, her fists tightening. "I will drag him down and kill him."

Her grandfather smiled. "I would be disappointed in you if you did not."


	2. Chapter 2

"We finally got him, Sammy," Dean said as they walked off the boat. "That makes three this month."

"You know that no one will believe us, Dean." The younger Winchester rolled his shoulders as they walked down the dock.

"Who cares? We know, and that's what matters," Dean answered, running his fingers through his short hair.

"I still don't think it's a good idea to keep hunting them." Sam shrugged when the older Winchester stared at him. "Look, those things killed Dad, and for all we know, they killed Mom, too. There was no way for her to drown, the way she swam. If we keep going after them, they'll kill us, too."

"Not me, Sam," Dean countered. "Their singing can't get to me, or you, for some reason."

"Quirk of genetics, I guess," Sam said. "They have other ways. You know it, and I know it."

"I know it better than you."

Sam ran his fingers through his hair, untangling it from the strip of leather that held it back in a short ponytail. "Man, all I'm saying is that maybe it's time to stop and live like normal people for once?"

"You mean that I shack up with a wife and you shack up with that flower seller you're too nervous to talk to and we all have babies and pretend everything's fine while those things keep killin' people?" Dean asked. "Sounds really nice."

"I'm not too nervous to talk to Jess. I talk to her all the time," Sam said.

"Yeah, to buy flowers. I've never seen someone who's not courting a woman buy so many of those damn things," Dean retorted.

"Go to Hell," Sam grumbled.

Dean laughed. "Been there, Sammy. Hell's the bottom of the ocean."

.

"Look, little brother, all I'm saying is that you need to relax a little, for once in your life," Gabriel said, putting a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "A party is just the way to do it!"

"I respectfully decline," Castiel replied, shrugging Gabriel's hand off his shoulder and continuing down the wide hallway of the palace. "Gabriel, you have a kingdom to run. You should not be spending time planning a birthday party for me."

"Which is why I am planning your party!" their cousin, Balthazar drawled, walking down the hallway and throwing his arm around Castiel's shoulders. "A night on the high seas with your darling family, friends, and all the beer you can drink!"

"What are you two dragging him into now?" Anna asked, rounding the corner. "It's bad enough that you corrupted each other. Our little brother doesn't need to be debauched."

Gabriel pouted. "You two just never want to have any fun."

"I have plenty of fun. I just do it without beer and whores," Anna answered. "Oh, hello, Dean."

"Princess," Dean said, dipping his head in her direction. He and Sam walked farther down the hallway to join the little group. "What's this I hear about a party?"

"Castiel's big twenty-fourth birthday bash," Balthazar answered. "Tomorrow night out on _The Virgin Mary._ You in or are you in, Winchester?"

"I have not agreed to this," Castiel interrupted.

"That will not necessarily keep it from happening," Anna pointed out. Dean laughed and she looked away, blushing. "Well, I need to go and locate Becky. Our sister in law has run off and hidden somewhere again. Probably the kitchens." Nodding politely to Dean, Anna continued down the hallway. When she was out of sight, Castiel ducked away from Balthazar and took off after her.

"Sam, we may have to enlist you to carry him onto that boat. He's going to have fun whether he likes it or not," Balthazar said.

.

"You can't just attack a human by yourself!" Tom yelled, watching Meg re-arrange the books stacked against the cave wall.

"We do it all the time," Meg argued. "Honestly, it isn't that hard. Humans are stupid."

"Then why do you have all this human junk scattered around?" he asked. Turning away from her books, Meg dragged herself over to the water and rolled in. Surfacing, she gave her brother a light push.

"They're interesting," she answered, pushing her oily hair out of her face. Hooking it behind one of her pointed ears, she watched the scales on her brother's face shine in the faint torchlight. "More importantly, they make gold. Gold is pretty. And shiny."

"But the books? Sister, they're nonsense."

"They're a way to pass the time," she snapped. Meg folded her arms on the ground and placed her chin on them, just out the way of her fins. "Some have pictures in them. They're pretty. Humans are stupid but I want one."

"You want one?"

"Like Alastair used to. I wanna bring one down and play with it a bit," she said softly. "After I kill Dean Winchester."

"And if he kills you like he did Alastair and father?" Tom asked.

"He was lucky," Meg argued. "Alastair let his guard down. Father made a mistake. That won't happen with me. I'll bring you his head, just like Alastair did with John Winchester's after we drowned his little wife. We'll take down that whole damn family and then go back to killing and eating humans like we're supposed to."

Tom kissed the side of her head. "Whatever you say, Meg. Just be careful. We don't need anyone else to die." She watched her brother sink into the water and dove back under herself. Swimming around her cave, Meg ran her fingers over her human objects, gently re-arranging them as she went.

Humans were stupid, but to Meg they were also fascinating. Part of her wanted to claw her way out of the sea to experience the objects on land, untainted by the salt water or the passage of time. She wanted to lay in the sun without it drying out her scales or skin, picking off humans whenever she wanted instead of waiting for a ship to happen by.

Gently gripping a ship's wheel she'd painstakingly removed and preserved from a wreck, Meg imagined herself piloting one of the vessels, cutting through the sea on one of the powerful wooden structures while the wind blew her hair around her face. Shaking her head to bring herself back to reality, Meg let go of the ship's wheel and swam over to her angel statue.

She stared at it for a moment, running her fingers over the statue's face and wings. She studied the angel, with its hard, square-shaped face and wide eyes, and its slightly tucked-in chin. Gently, Meg scraped her nails along the chiseled feathers of the statue and frowned when she chipped the edge of one of the feathers.

On a whim, Meg plucked the statue from its perch and shoved the skull in front of it to the middle of the circle of shells. She propelled herself upward, pumping her dark tail while both arms gripped the angel. Surfacing, she placed it at the edge of her cave, turning it slightly so the statue faced the torchlight. Meg smiled and watched it for a moment more before slipping back into the water and toward the entrance of her cave.

Once she exited her cave, Meg swam for the surface. Emerging into the afternoon air, she flushed the water from her lungs and felt her gills flutter and close as she did. The sunlight reflected off the sea, blinding her for a moment before her eyes adjusted. She turned in the water until she spied the top towers of the human palace rising from the rocky shoreline to the east.

Her gills flared and opened as she dove beneath the waves, heading toward the human palace. Every few minutes Meg surfaced again to watch the towers grow closer, eventually staying above the waves. The fin on her back flared out and she sank into the sea until only her eyes and fin were exposed to the open air. Her tail slapped the water as she swam, scattering bubbles across the surface.

Nearing the beach, Meg spotted a large rock jutting out of the water a few yards before the sand. Relaxing the fin on her back, she silently slipped from the water and up onto the rock. Laying herself on the sun-warmed stone, Meg stretched and studied the shoreline, waiting for someone to emerge.

Alastair had been the first one of them to discover that Dean Winchester was, for some reason, immune to their voices. Her mentor had also found out that the human boy was not immune to their other powers. Alastair had been able to jerk the boy around with his mind, twisting his limbs and organs without touching or singing to him.

Raising her arm, Meg pushed her open hand forward and then pulled it back. After a moment, the ocean stopped moving in its natural rhythm and began to move to the one she was creating. The waves churned, spewing foam onto the sand as a small whirlpool formed just beyond her rock. She gave a final push and the whirlpool broke, the water rushing forward to coat the beach.

She smirked and raised her hand again, aiming for the sand. Curling her fingers, she watched as small holes appeared on the beach as she mentally scooped the sand out. "Wonderful," she drawled, tucking her hand under her body. If she could reach the sand on the beach, all she had to do was wait until Dean Winchester appeared and pull him to her so she could hold him under the water. "Drowning just like your mommy. How appropriate."

Pressing herself even closer to the rock, Meg fixed her black eyes on the beach and waited. The sun continued to climb higher in the sky, beating down on her and drying out her body. She shifted once and winced at the sting as her dry flesh scraped along the stone.

Surrendering to her body's need for moisture, Meg slid off the rock, wincing again when her flesh cracked in several places as she stretched. Even her hair, normally slick and oily to the touch, felt stiff. The fin on her back refused to open, and the scales that decorated her body began to flake.

Meg let out a groan as her tail hit the water, relief flooding through her. She let go of the stone and curled her tail close to her body, allowing herself to sink under completely. She hovered just under the waves, gulping water through her mouth to soothe her throat. After a moment, Meg straightened out her fin and ran her hands over her body, inspecting the skin as it healed. The scales that decorated her breasts and stomach once again felt smooth and shone in the faint light underwater, and the other patches that decorated her back and the fins on her forearms felt the same.

Smiling, she ran her palms over her rubbery skin one more time before gently breaking the surface. A male voice floated toward her and she ducked behind the rock, peeking back around it and out at the beach. Spotting a solitary figure on the sand, Meg hauled herself up the rock and raised her head higher.

A male in a long, tan coat stood at the edge of the water, staring back at the castle with his fists clenched. She tilted her head to the side as she watched him shout something back at the castle before he turned away and walked farther down the beach. When he turned to face her, Meg raised her head higher instead of hiding behind the rock again.

His eyes widened before they narrowed at her, and for a moment Meg saw a hint of blue. Holding out a finger, she beckoned to him, using her powers to nudge him forward so the waves lapped at his feet. Meg smiled as his eyes widened again and drew in a deep breath, preparing to lure him into the water with her voice.

The first note left her throat when another voice echoed down the beach. Snapping her mouth shut, Meg watched Dean Winchester sprint down the coastline, a taller man sauntering behind him. "Come on, man! You're gonna miss your own party!" he called.

Meg immediately flattened herself against the rock and hissed. She was confident that she could take two humans near the shore, controlling the blue-eyed one with her voice while she used her other powers to take Dean Winchester. She wasn't sure she could take on three of them so close to land where it was possible for her to be dragged onto shore.

"What are you lookin' at?" Dean shouted. Meg peeked out from behind the rock and watched the shorter man shake his head. He gestured toward her rock, and Dean grabbed his arm, pulling him away from the water. The tallest of the three reached them and began to gesture himself toward where several ships were docked.

"Just get on the boat before I have to carry you!" he threatened_. "The Virgin Mary_'s leaving in half an hour and we want you on it before anyone else."

Without waiting for the conversation to finish, Meg silently lowered herself under the water and turned toward the dock. Once again, the fin on her back flared out and peeked above the waves as she glided through the water, using her hands instead of her tail to move.

Once she reached the ships, Meg raised her head enough so her eyes were exposed to the air, keeping her mouth and body submerged. Her black eyes scanned the names on each ship as she glided past them, tilting her head to read the large, golden letters. She heard human voices coming from one of the ships and gently swam toward them.

The front of the ship held the image of a woman praying. She swam to the other side, staying close to the wood, and stared up at _The Virgin Mary_. The boat's name rose above her, taller than even her grandfather. The golden lettering glittered in the sun as Meg scanned the words again and again, making sure that her English was right.

_Looks like those books paid off after all, brother, _she thought smugly. Meg envisioned herself sinking the boat, bobbing in the water and laughing as the humans screamed and died around her. She thought of her grandfather's face when she presented him with Dean Winchester's body after she gorged herself on human flesh and took whatever treasures there were on board the ship.

Smiling, she slipped under the water and swam to the bottom of the boat. Pressing herself against it, Meg dug her claws into the wood and settled down to wait.


	3. Chapter 3

Once the ship reached deep water Meg unhooked her claws from the wood and stretched to work the stiffness from her body. Smiling, she swam upward, carelessly breaking through the water and into the night. The moon shone down on her, bathing the water in a silvery glow as the waves gently lapped at the side of the ship. Jaunty music flowed down toward her from the deck of the vessel, accompanied by loud human voices.

Bobbing with the waves, Meg paddled backward to examine the ship when a thunder-like noise rolled over her. Flinching, she ducked back under the water. When she surfaced again, the sound rumbled through the air as bright lights lit up the sky.

Her face morphed into an expression of awe as the fireworks were launched over the boat and light up the night sky. A slight smile bloomed as the jewel-toned colors continued to explode over the boat, the humans clapping and whooping below them. She lay back in the water and watched the colors dance as they reflected off the black ocean and caused the scales on her face to shine in the light before they vanished.

_Okay, this is pretty cool,_ she thought. _Humans can make some pretty things._ The show ended and Meg swam back toward the boat. Looking up, she spotted a small opening in the side of the wood and smiled. Gripping the elaborate carvings on the side of the ship, Meg used her claws to dig into the wood and haul herself out of the ocean. Water streamed from her body as she continued to climb, having to dig into the wood with her teeth as she scrabbled at the wood to keep from falling.

Finally reaching the opening on the railing of the ship, Meg settled herself on one of the carvings and turned to look at the deck of the vessel. She scanned her black eyes over the mass of human feet that danced in front of her, their laughter booming in her ears. Gripping the wood harder, Meg leaned over as far as she could.

Vibrations from the humans dancing made the wood jump under her hands as she watched the human feet move in front of her, the women's gowns swishing with their steps. A long, tan coat flashed across her vision before the crowd parted to reveal several barrels. Tilting her head to read the words stamped across the front, Meg smiled again.

_Gunpowder._

_That does something. I know it does, _Meg thought. _Think, Meg, think. _Still facing the barrel, Meg closed her eyes as she tried to dig up centuries worth of memories from all the books she'd read. _What does it do, what does it do? It's dangerous, I know that. It, what's the word? _

"Explodes," she whispered as the humans began to gather on the other side of the ship. Smirking, Meg turned to look at the water before peeking back through the opening. Bracing herself on the deck with her forearms, she pulled herself forward so her tail hung in the open air and her arms completely supported her weight. Meg took a deep breath and extended one hand, focusing on the barrels as the humans continued to drone on. Heat flooded her palm as she created a small ball of fire. It licked at the deck of the ship, spreading along the wood and under her arm. Her face broke out in a toothy grin, and Meg pulled her hand backward before she pushed it back toward the barrels, launching the fireball.

As soon as it left her palm, Meg hurled herself away from the ship and toward the water. The impact knocked the breath from her body as the vibrations from the explosion thundered through the sea. Righting herself, Meg pumped her tail and broke the surface to the sound of screams.

Silently, she watched the ship burn as the humans on deck plunged into the water to escape the flames. She smiled again as the orange glow lit up the sky and reflected off the ocean, the colors even more beautiful than the fireworks she'd seen earlier. Meg scanned the ship for Dean Winchester as the rest of the humans lowered a lifeboat over the edge.

"My foot's stuck!" shrieked a female voice from on top of the ship. "Help!"

Turning away from the lifeboat, Meg watched the man in the tan coat run back into the flames and toward the voice, calling a name over and over. The humans in the lifeboat called for him, but Meg couldn't hear his name above the roaring of the fire. Lifting herself farther out of the water, Meg craned her neck toward the burning vessel.

The man appeared again, holding a woman in a flowing green gown. He yelled something at her, and Meg watched as she nodded before he threw her toward the water. She spotted Dean Winchester leaning over the side of the lifeboat to haul her in and prepared to swim toward it when a loud crack echoed through the night.

Meg froze and watched the man struggle on the side of the ship. The people on the lifeboat yelled for him to jump as another crack sounded. Meg's eyes widened as the ship seemed to vibrate for a moment. She sank into the water up to her nose, hands curling into fists.

The ship exploded.

Blinded by the light, Meg threw herself back under the water. _I did not think this through. _She opened her eyes and shook her head to clear her vision. Debris spiraled past her in the water, the wood sinking down for a moment before bobbing upward again as metal hurtled to the ocean floor. Bodies sank into the sea around her, half-burned and dead eyed. She watched one man flail helplessly toward the surface, blood pouring from a wound on his leg. She sped past him, slapping him back down in the water when he reached to grab her, and broke through to the surface again.

The smoke burned her eyes and the fire obscured her vision as she searched for the lifeboat that held her target. Meg growled and pushed aside debris from the ship as she swam, hissing when the fire licked at her skin.

She turned in the water and saw the man in the tan coat clinging to a piece of floating wood, blood matted against the side of his head and his eyes closed. The ocean rocked him until his body slipped from the chunk of the ship and he fell into the water. Plunging beneath the waves, she watched his body sink for a moment before swimming over for a closer look, abandoning her search for the lifeboat.

Resting her hands on his shoulders, Meg held him under and studied his face. She leaned forward and sniffed at his neck, the smell of the fire still clinging to him even under the water. She pulled back, claws digging into his coat, and felt her heart beat faster in her chest as she studied him.

She studied his hard jawline and slightly tucked-in chin, how large his eyes were even when they were closed. She could almost hear his lungs filling with water as she watched him, the sea rushing in to claim his body. She moved her hand from his shoulder and brushed it over the wound on his head and down his jaw, feeling the stubble.

"You look just like my angel," she murmured, stroking his face. Meg chuckled and leaned forward, pressing her nose to his. "I think I'll take you home with me." Drawing in a deep breath, Meg grabbed his face and pressed her lips to his. Prying his mouth open with her tongue, she pushed the water into his mouth along with some of her power. Wrapping it around his lungs, Meg kept her lips connected with his until they tingled and began to glow. When it faded, she pulled away and pressed her hand to his chest to feel it rising and falling steadily, his lungs convinced the water they were taking in was air.

Meg hooked her hands under his armpits and dragged him upward, searching the area one last time for Dean Winchester. She turned and turned in the water, holding the man to her bare chest as she scanned for the lifeboat. She saw it vanish in the smoke and clutched the man harder, hissing through her teeth. A lifeless sailor bobbed next to them, still clutching the piece of wood he had died on. Casually, she reached over and used her claws to rip one of his glassy eyes from his skull.

Chewing slowly, Meg watched the boat get smaller and smaller on the horizon. The sea still shone orange around her as she clawed out the other eye and popped it in her mouth. Using her bloody claw to stroke the man's face, Meg took a deep breath of night air. _I screwed that up pretty good._

Meg threw the man over the piece of wood and pulled her bag from her shoulder. She tore into the sailor without care, peeling strips of flesh from his face and exposed arms. Stuffing as much of the meat into her bag as she could, Meg quickly rolled the body from the wood and flung her bag back over her shoulder.

She turned to the man and leaned against the wood, studying his face. The wound on his head oozed, the blood dripping sluggishly down his pale flesh. Alastair's lessons echoed in her ears._ It's best to heal them first, my dear. You want a blank canvas to work on. _

Scooping up some seawater with her palm, Meg poured it over the wound to wash the blood away. The man winced in his sleep. Meg ignored it and gently laid her palm over the wound, carefully keeping her claws from his flesh. Meg sang four notes of a wordless song, her voice rising and falling as her healing power wrapped around him. His head glowed for a moment, and she took her hand away from his face, wiping away the remaining blood.

Healthy skin shone up at her in the faint light of the fire, and the man's face relaxed once more. Smiling to herself, Meg hummed and impulsively pressed her lips to his again before dragging him off the wood and back below the waves.

Heavier under the pull of the sea, Meg held him to her chest again. Even with her superior strength she struggled to swim with him, the long, tan coat and heavy boots he wore adding to his weight. She swam near the surface with his face tucked close to her neck until the sun rose before plunging into the deeper, colder waters and heading for home. Under her spell the man did not stir, and she felt his chest rise and fall against her own.

.

Staring at the man sprawled on the floor of her cave, Meg hauled herself onto the dry land and clawed her way over to him. Next to his head stood her angel statue, the granite eyes silently staring at the two of them.

She looked from his face and back at the statue, floored by how similar they looked. Meg put one hand on the statue and rested the other on his face, tracing both the man's cheek and the statue's at the same time. "If you had wings you'd look just like it," she said, finally stilling her fingers. The man's eyes fluttered as he let out a low moan, and Meg leaned in closer, flattening both her hands on his chest. "Not yet, angel. I haven't even tied you up. We wouldn't want you to start flailing and hurt yourself, now would we?"

Digging her claws into the front of his shirt, Meg let her power flood through his body again. His face relaxed under her once more, head lolling to the side on the floor of her cave. Letting out a pleased hum, Meg released his grip on his chest and laid down, crossing her arms and resting her head next to her fins as she watched him.

"You are kind of pretty, for a human," she mused. Meg moved her tail lazily through the water before curling it up over one of his legs. "You know, Alastair never really let me look much down there. He tended to focus more on the middle, since yours is so much like ours. Your faces, too. I think the lack of scales really got to him." Moving one of her hands to the scales under her face, Meg sighed. "You really do look weird without them. And all those eye colors humans have. Weird."

Sliding down off of him and into the water, Meg stared at the boots he was wearing before she tugged them off and let them fall to the bottom of her cave. Clinging to the rocky edge, she narrowed her eyes at the toes just brushing against the sea. Hesitantly, she ran one of her fingers over the top of his foot before examining the bottom, pulling her hand away when he twitched. She repeated the motion and smiled when he twitched again, wondering if it hurt him, if human feet really were that delicate.

Ignoring the man as she hauled herself back out of the water, Meg slithered over to the chains Alastair had embedded in the wall when she was a child. Meg frowned when she noticed that spots of rust had bloomed on the metal, unused since her mentor's death. Using half her strength, she gave them an experimental tug, smiling when they refused to give. She wrapped them around her arms and rolled toward the man before lining them up next to his wrists. Limp under her touch, Meg pulled the tan coat from him and tossed it in her pile of cloth.

Growling when she found another jacket underneath it, Meg dug her claws into the material and simply ripped it from his body. When the man was naked from his waist up, the way she remembered Alastair had used to chain his humans down, she pulled his wrists up and locked them into the restraints.

Sitting next to him, Meg took in the too-pale skin. To her, it looked off without the scales that covered the chests of most of the mermen she knew, and the chests of all of the mermaids. She ran her hands over his chest lightly, surprised by how smooth and cold his skin felt, unlike how her own usually felt rubbery when she'd been in the water, or rough when she'd stayed in the sun too long.

Laying her tail over his chest, she watched the black scales gleam in the torchlight. "I changed my mind. You're actually pretty ugly."

.

"That wasn't an accident, Sammy!" Dean snapped. "There wasn't anything that could've set off those barrels. It had to have been one of them."

"Dean, quiet," Sam whispered back, glancing over to where Anna was staring out at the water.

"I can hear you," Anna said irritably. She clutched the side of the lifeboat so hard her knuckles turned white, her injured leg held at an awkward angle under her. "It doesn't matter what happened. Castiel saved me and he's gone."

"He might not be dead. We'll go back for him once the fire dies down," Sam soothed. "He's a strong swimmer."

"It had to be one of those finned bastards," Dean whispered when Anna turned away. "Sam, we're not gonna find him. We're probably not even gonna find his body."

"You got away," Sam pointed out.

"Through dumb luck and crappy chains," Dean snapped. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked away. "He ain't ever comin' out of that water."


	4. Chapter 4

"I think I did that spell a little too well," Meg said to herself as she watched the man sleep. "You should've woken up by now."

Tired of watching him, Meg slithered across the floor of her cave until she reached her book pile. Pulling one out of the stack at random, she waved her hand at the torches to increase the light before she opened it and began to read.

"_And the angel Clarence said, you are needed and you are strong," _she read. Looking over at the unconscious man, Meg smirked. "Angels just seem to be the theme of the day, huh?"

"Look who graduated from human trash to humans," her brother interrupted, laying half his body on the floor of her cave. "Is that Dean Winchester?"

"Go to Hell," Meg snapped, setting her book down. "No, that's not Dean Winchester. I couldn't get him. But I did manage to bring something else home with me."

"Yeah, I can see your new pet. You played with him yet?" Tom asked.

Meg shook her head. "He hasn't woken up yet. I put a little too much juice into my sleep spell." Maneuvering herself into the water, Meg grabbed her bag and passed it to her brother. "I got dinner. You want any?"

Tom reached into her bag. "What are you gonna do with it?"

Meg chewed on her own piece of flesh for a moment before she shrugged. "I don't know. It's been awhile since I've done anything, and I've never had one all to myself before. I might just play for bit."

"Can I play, too?" Tom asked. Meg hissed, her fins flaring out. "I'll take that as a no, then."

"No is right. He's mine," she said. "I blew up his ship and dragged him down here. He's _my_ pet."

"Your pet got a name?"

"I'm going to call him Clarence," Meg decided, glancing at her discarded book. The man twitched in his sleep and mumbled something too low for them to hear. Excited, Meg grabbed her brother's shoulders and pushed him under the water, ducking her head down after him. "He's waking up. Beat it."

"Are you sure you don't want help?" Tom offered again.

Meg shook her head and shoved him again. "Just get out!"

Smirking at her, Tom pressed a kiss to her cheek before he turned and swam out of her cave, slapping his tail harder than he needed to. Bubbles obscured her vision or a moment before Meg rose from the water again and paddled quietly toward the unconscious man.

Hauling herself out of the sea, Meg leaned over him, water dripping off her body and down onto his. "Wake up, Clarence," she said softly, tracing his jaw lightly with the tips of her claws. "Come on, sweetheart. Wake up and scream for Meg." Digging her claws into his face, Meg smiled when small stripes of blood began to trickle down his cheek. Lowering her head, she ran her tongue over the wounds and moaned before sitting back up and bracing her hands on his chest.

"You don't want to sleep through all the fun, do you?" She shook him lightly. "Wake up!"

He stirred under her again, his head moving to the side as his breathing hitched. She leaned closer, almost pressing her scaled nose to his as his eyelids fluttered. _And scream, _she thought as his eyes met hers and widened.

Instead of screaming, the man raised his head toward hers. He pulled himself backward by his chains, forcing Meg to slide backwards into his lap. Nestled against his legs, she watched as he raised his hand and gently touched the side of her head. His fingers moved, threading their way through her oily hair and pushing it back behind her pointed ear. He stroked her ear absently, rubbing his thumb over the stretched, almost web-like skin. She hummed gently at his touch, her voice causing his eyes to droop as he studied her face and she waited for him to scream.

"Are you an angel?" he mumbled, narrowing his eyes at her. "You are very beautiful."

Meg tapped his forehead with her claws. "I think you drank some seawater, Clarence. You're supposed to be screaming and begging for mercy." Flattening her hand over his mouth to prevent him from speaking, Meg grinned. "Go back to sleep."

She sang again, her voice low and soothing. Removing her hand from his mouth, Meg gently cradled the man's head as his eyes began to close and he fell backward onto the floor of her cave. She continued to wrap her voice around him even after his breathing evened out and his chest rose and fell beneath her. When the song ended she kept close to him, her tangled hair falling around his face like a curtain.

"That was unexpected," she muttered, lying down fully on his chest. "You're the first one not to scream at me. We'll have to fix that."

.

"I thought he'd be a pile of meat and skin by now," Tom said, hauling himself out of the water. Dropping the necklace she was holding, Meg rolled over on the ground and stared at her brother.

"He didn't scream," she told him. Meg picked up another piece of jewelry and held it up to the light before tossing it away. "He just stared at me so I made him sleep again. I'll figure out what to do later."

"You could always let me have him," Tom suggested. Meg threw a ring at him.

"If you want a human toy, you go catch one."

He threw the ring back at her. "Just start carving into him. He'll scream then."

"And father said you lacked artistry." Moving over to the wall, Meg selected a large, curved knife and ran her fingers over it. "That's the reason Alastair trained me instead of you. You can't just go right in and start carving up. You have to make them scared first, get them crying and screaming and afraid before you even start putting knives into them. You just never understood the fun of putting them back together so you can take them apart again."

Tom slithered up behind her and rested his chin on her shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "You're right when it comes to that. I never particularly liked playing with them. It's the killing and eating part I like."

Meg rested her head against her brother's, her dark hair mixing with his. "You can eat them while they're awake, you know. But you don't like the screaming."

"You like it a little too much."

"I don't know," she drawled, setting the knife down. "This new one's pretty interesting."

.

She watched him instead.

The man would mutter in his sleep, sometimes twitching and pulling on his chains as he did. He called out for someone named Anna on occasion, but more often he called for Dean Winchester or a man named Sam.

"I wonder if that's your wife," she said conversationally. Lying on the ground with her head on his stomach, Meg lowered her book. "You know, according to these, women don't like it when their man shacks up with another chick. I wonder what she'd do if she could see you now. Cry, probably."

Setting the book aside, Meg rolled over onto her stomach and placed her chin in her hands. "You need to wake up so I can eat."

"Not married," he whispered. Freezing in surprise, Meg slithered closer to him. "Anna's my sister."

"Sleeping Beauty awakens," she drawled. "Perfect timing, too."

His eyes were cloudy when they looked at her. "I know what you are now. Are you going to kill me?" He stared at her in a way that made Meg's skin crawl, focused entirely on her scaled face and black eyes.

"No," she answered, surprising herself. She glanced at the angel statue that still stood near his head. _I might just eat you a little. _

.

She let him talk.

_I think I broke something in his head, _she thought as he talked about his human life and tugged at his chains. _Or you just need water. How long have I kept you down here?_

"You've been in here for three days, Meg," Tom said next time he visited. "Just kill the thing already."

"I don't want to," she argued. "I told you, I'm still working on it."

"Grandfather will insist you do. I'll tell him," Tom threatened.

Slapping her tail angrily in the water, Meg snarled at him. "You're threatening to tell our _grandfather_ on me?"

"Our _king_," he retorted. "You know he won't like having a human down here after what happened to Alastair. Just kill it."

"I'll get rid of him," Meg ground out, clicking her teeth together. "Just leave."

When Tom finally exited her cave, Meg swam back to the surface and stared at the man sleeping against the stone. Ignoring him, she made her way to her pile of books and picked one at random. Flipping it open, she stared down at the picture of an angel that spread across both pages. Lovingly detailed, she let her eyes roam over the scene of the warrior with wings driving his sword into an enemy.

"I'm a monster, not a liar," she said, glancing over at the man. "You're no fun, anyway."

Throwing the book back onto the pile, Meg clawed her way over to the man and climbed on top of him. Folding her arms over his chest and resting her chin on them, Meg stared at his face and let her fin skim the water lazily. "I'm not a liar," she repeated, slapping the water angrily with her fin. "I might be a little stupid, though."

She groaned and pressed her forehead into her arm, gently rubbing her skin against the scales that surrounded the fin there. Letting her body rise and fall as the man under her breathed, she closed her eyes and took several deep breaths of her own. "I'm going to let you go," she mumbled against his chest. "I'm going to let you live. I must be getting old."

"That's good news." Lifting her head, Meg flinched away from the blue eyes staring at her. "You're heavier than you look."

"Shut up or I'll eat you," she growled, reaching toward his chains.

"You just said you weren't a liar," he pointed out. Ignoring him, Meg took the cuffs from his wrists and drew back.

"Don't have to kill you to eat some of you," she snapped, rolling out of his lap and into the water. "Get in." She frowned when the man struggled to rise and fell back against the stone. "Nature takes its course, I guess. Oh well." She got out of the water again and leaned over him. He shivered and tried to shift away from her when the cold water ran off her body and over his.

"Cold," he mumbled.

"It's gonna get colder," she said. Grabbing his limp head in her hands, Meg forced him to look at her. "Damn, I forgot to feed and water you. But I'm gonna make you all better." She kissed him again, letting her power flow from her body into his. Instantly she felt warmth return to the skin under her as she pushed more water into his lungs. Drawing back, Meg tugged the man into the sea with her, letting him sink to the bottom before she dove after him.

Meg pulled him to her and began to swim out of the cave, moving faster now that his coat no longer dragged them down. She shot for the surface without stopping, tugging him closer when he shivered because of the cold ocean. The moment she pulled his head above the water he stopped shivering as the sunlight beat down on them.

The fin on her back flared out for balance as she barreled toward the distant shoreline, occasionally ducking back under the water when the sun began to dry out her skin. The man's skin reddened the longer she kept him under the sun, and he moaned in pain when she brushed one of her claws over his face.

Nearing the shore, Meg hummed quietly and let the waves guide them to the sand, wincing when it scraped against her skin. She pulled the man onto the beach and fell onto her stomach next to him, one of her arms still across his chest. After a moment she raised her other hand and jerked her wrist so the waves washed over both of them, cleaning the sand from their bodies and sending strength through her shaking body.

"_You're_ heavier than you look, Clarence," she muttered against the sand. Shakily, his hand stroked her bare arm for a moment before falling back onto the shore. Meg nudged his side with her head and sat up with a groan as the water washed over them again. "It's time to get that water outta you. I can't let a human walk around able to breathe underwater. I'm not that stupid."

This time she didn't have to hold his head when she pressed her mouth to his and inhaled, drawing the water up from his lungs and into her mouth, humming as she did. Meg stiffened when one of his hands lightly tangled in her hair and kept her pressed against his lips. A warm feeling began to spread through her chest as his lips moved and he pressed closer to her. It was different from the friendly kisses she'd shared with her brother and cousins in the past, so different from the other times she'd pressed her lips to his so he could survive under the water. Slow and almost tender, she leaned into his touch as the water from his lungs dribbled down her chin.

Meg felt his hand slide away from his neck and down her back as his head fell onto the sand. He looked at her through half-closed, glazed eyes, sand clinging to his hair and face as he shivered. She turned her head and spat the saltwater onto the beach next to him.

The waves washed over them again, dragging the sand from under his body and leaving the man in a little pool of water. Without moving his hand from her back, Meg glanced down the beach to where the human castle stood. "You're still ugly," she muttered, pressing her fingers to his cheek. She watched the skin turn pale and redden again before she sighed. "I'm an idiot."

Drawing in a deep breath, Meg threw her head back and let out a long, harsh scream. Her fins instinctively flared as the sound rumbled from her throat, knocking the man's hand off her back. She watched the flock of seagulls that squatted farther down the beach take flight at the sound, their own screeching cutting through the air.

The moment her scream settled, Meg threw herself backward and rolled ungracefully toward the water, letting the waves pull her back out to sea. When she broke through the surface again, she saw Dean Winchester barreling down the shore.

.

"Cas! Castiel! Sam, he's not dead! Cas!"

Castiel's head rolled toward Dean's voice and he groaned. "Dean?"

"He must have been out there for days," Sam said, jogging down the beach after Dean. "Look at him, he's covered in sunburn. We've gotta get him inside."

"I wasn't drifting," Castiel mumbled weakly. "Dean, there was this girl. She saved me. She had this beautiful voice and the most astonishing eyes."

Dean glanced at Sam and shook his head. "He's been out there without food or water for days. He ain't making sense."

"I'm making perfect sense," Castiel protested. He winced as the boys pulled him off the sand and began to guide him toward the castle. "There was this cave, and she sang to me, and I could breathe under the water."

Dean froze and glanced over at his brother. Sam shook his head. "I think maybe you drank some seawater, Cas. Or your lack of food is messing with your head and you just had a dream, or something. We'll bring you up to the castle doctor and you'll feel better. Anna's been worried sick about you."

"Not my wife," Castiel said. Dean's eyebrows drew together in confusion.

"Yeah, man, not your wife. You don't have one."

"Oh, good."

"Let's just get you inside and fixed up."

.

Clutching one of the rocks that jutted from the water near the shoreline, Meg watched Dean Winchester and the tall man walk off with her Clarence stumbling between them. The moment their backs were turned she hauled herself up onto the stone and raised her body to watch them leave, ignoring the hot sun beating down on her.

The warm feeling from their kiss remained in her chest as she watched him amble down the beach. "I am so stupid," she said to herself. "I should've killed him."

His head rolled and he looked back at her. She watched as he tugged at the men carrying him and froze on the beach for a moment, trying to turn them around. Meg flattened herself against the rock as the men began shouting. Once their voiced died down, she raised her head again to find them gone from the beach.

She stayed on the rock watching the shore until her stomach rumbled and her skin began to dry out. Squaring her shoulders, Meg wiped her mouth and spat into the ocean, trying to remove the warm, clean feeling that still lingered in her.

Failing, Meg shook her head and lowered herself back into the sea. Instead of heading for home, she glided along just under the surface of the water, focusing on her growling stomach instead of her feelings. Vibrations echoed through the water from the fish that swam around her and she dove deeper to escape them, her powerful fin propelling her away from the palace, faster without another body to weigh her down.

Slowing when she reached the ocean floor, Meg rotated around until she was on her back and stopped, allowing the current to gently tug her along. "I need to kill something," she muttered. As soon as the sentence left her mouth the shadow of a ship passed overhead. She focused on it and smiled before heading toward the surface, quivering in anticipation.


End file.
